


Perfect

by okk_maaan



Category: Marriage Story (2019)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Pregnant Reader, Reader-Insert, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:55:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23179594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okk_maaan/pseuds/okk_maaan
Summary: Post divorce from Nicole -- you and Charlie have started a new life together. Get ready for some major fluff!!
Relationships: Charlie Barber/Reader, Charlie Barber/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 46





	Perfect

The morning sun began to shine through the tiny shower window into your tiny bathroom. You push the curtain back so it could fully come through and warm the cold tile under your feet. You jump into your morning routine, brushing your teeth, washing your face, applying products to every inch of skin that you could reach. The products were probably useless, but at that point, you wanted to do what you could to feel more human. And less like a walking science experiment.

You were so caught up in your rituals and thoughts, you barely notice Charlie walk in. He sends a small tingle through your body as he grazes his fingertips gently along your spine. Snapping back into reality, you regard him in the mirror with a warm smile. He was already dressed and ready for his day. Your eyes wander from his neatly brushed hair, clean shaven face, to his freshly pressed button up and slacks. He was always so perfectly put together. You glance back up to his forearm raised to you; his sleeve was rolled up, exposing his pale skin. You finally land on his big silver watch, glinting in the scarce sunlight. A fond memory of you and Henry picking the watch out for Charlie’s birthday replays in your mind. He loved that watch.

Charlie again pulled you from your thoughts, something you both often have to do for each other.

“Do you need some help?” he gestures to the jar of cocoa butter on the sink, then back to your growing belly. Well, you’re not really sure how much more it was going to grow after eight months.

“Nope. I’m all done. Thank you, though.” Always so willing to help, your Charlie. You stand up on your tiptoes to peck him on the lips.

He steps around to stand behind you, both hands moving to cradle your stomach, to try and feel the life you created together. He bends his body in a way that allows his chin to rest on your shoulder. You reach one hand up to tenderly cup his cheek, while the other rests on his hands.

“What are your plans for today?” he asked, nuzzling his nose under your ear.

His warm, light breath on your skin makes you giggle like a teenager in love. Charlie always found a way to make you feel easy (even though he was usually so tightly wound himself).

“Oh, you know, the usual Saturday,” you start down your list of errands. Even though it was the weekend, Saturday was almost always a full day for you, especially when Henry was home. You would be busy with him, along with all the other tasks you insisted you complete, even in spite of Charlie’s protests. Over the past few months, he tried, and failed, to take over duties like grocery shopping and cleaning. You knew he was busy with his work and you were home most of the day, only taking a handful of hours to do some writing. He once confessed that he felt he was putting you in some outdated, sexist box. But you reassured him that wasn’t the case. You loved taking care of him, Henry, and your home.

“I don’t know how you do it,” was his only response to your rambling.

“It’s not that bad,” you shrug.

“You’re already such a good mother. So good to Henry. So good to me,” he responded, each sentence punctuated with a kiss on your cheek.

“You’re a good man. You deserve it,” you say, matter-of-factly.

To that, you see a sadness creep over his eyes. A sadness you knew all too well.

“I’m not a good man. I’ve been selfish, resentful, angry, jealous,” he shook his head, looking down to avoid your gaze.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but I think you just described several basic human emotions. Feeling those things doesn’t make you a bad man,” you huff out a light laugh. You tried not to give into his theatrics, but you still wanted him to feel valid in his expressions. Never made fun of. You caress the backs of both his hands. “No one expects you to be perfect. I don’t expect you to be perfect. Henry doesn’t expect you to be perfect. She won’t expect you to be perfect,” your eyes drop to the swell in front of you.

Charlie only repeated your words back to you, “But you _are_ perfect. And Henry _is_ perfect. And she _will be_ perfect.”

You knew his declarations were filled with nothing but love, still you couldn’t help feel a slight twinge of guilt for just telling him he wasn’t perfect. He really was.

The two of you stood in silence for a few beats before you interjected.

“Hey,” you whisper to get his attention. His eyes meet yours once again in the mirror. “So instead of us constantly referring to her as ‘she’ or ‘her’, I’ve been thinking about names,” you trail off as a grin spreads across your face.

“Oh yeah?” he instantly perks up with excitement and anticipation, at the mention of your daughter. “Hannah,” it dripped off your lips like honey. The sweetest little name for the sweetest little girl. “Hannah Barber,” you say her whole name this time to get the full effect. “Henry and Hannah Barber,” this time testing her name with her brother’s.

“Hannah,” Charlie whispered. “I would’ve loved anything you came up with, but Hannah is…”

“Perfect,” you finish his sentence before he has a chance to.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what ya think! Follow me on tumblr for more @okk--maaan. This is my first full fic I've posted but I have several WIPs that I hope to post soon!!❤


End file.
